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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993728">there's something to be said for soup and heated lavender</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emleewrites/pseuds/emleewrites'>emleewrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Good Husband Tobio, Headaches &amp; Migraines, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Married Couple, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:02:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emleewrites/pseuds/emleewrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tobio.”</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>Hinata lets his hands drop away from his face and raises himself up on his elbows slightly so he can squint down the bed at him. “How many flavours have you made?”</p><p>“Err… six.”</p><p>Hinata stares at him wordlessly before letting his aching head drop back onto the pillow. “You thought I’d eat <em>six</em> bowls of soup?” He asks the ceiling, voice rough and bewildered.</p><p>Tobio frowns, slightly offended. Of course he didn’t think Hinata would eat six bowls of soup, he wasn’t an idiot. “I wanted to be thorough,” he pouts, scowling down at his medley of soup. Admittedly the kitchen now looked like a bomb had hit it and he’s not entirely certain about the cauliflower one, but he’s fairly sure they’re all edible.</p><p>-</p><p>In which Hinata has a migraine, and Kageyama is a doting husband with too many remedies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>there's something to be said for soup and heated lavender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am, once again, back on my gooey kagehina husbands bullshit because I was experiencing fairly intense withdrawal symptoms and needed some mush asap.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first clue that something was maybe not quite right was that Hinata was still sleeping when Tobio woke up.</p><p>Normally, his husband is already awake by the time Tobio blinks his eyes open in the mornings and often already in the kitchen getting a start on breakfast. It used to be a sticking point early on in their relationship; the empty warm spot on the mattress next to him. Especially so when Hinata first got back from Brazil. But he soon learned the benefits of sloping into the kitchen every morning to a fresh, homemade meal and an excitable husband.</p><p>But, on occasion, when he’d played in a particularly gruelling game the day before, or, even rarer, when he was just feeling lazy, Hinata did sleep in past sunrise.</p><p>Yesterday had been only practice, and while practice for the national team <em>was</em> exhausting, it wasn’t the quite the same as a five set match in a world cup tournament.</p><p>So, laziness it is then.</p><p>Rolling over, the sleep warmed sheets sliding over him, Tobio shuffles along until he’s pressed up against his partner. Hinata was a chronically restless sleeper (in comparison to Tobio, who Hinata said slept like a dead log), so if he <em>was</em> still bed in the mornings he was either draped across Tobio, or all the way over on the other side of the bed.</p><p>Hinata doesn’t react, still snoring softly into his pillow, when Tobio slides an arm around his waist and pulls him close, burying his nose into soft orange tufts. He’s very warm and very pliant, and Tobio sighs happily, perfectly content to have a lazy morning in on their day off.</p><p>Sunbeams creep their way steadily across the bedsheets as Tobio dozes, slipping in and out of awareness, comfortably warm. Each time he wavers awake, Hinata hasn’t moved, still pressed up against him and dead to the world, unresisting as Tobio wraps more his limbs around him like a limpet. (It’s very difficult to get Hinata to stay still for any length of time normally, so Tobio has to take these chances where he can.)</p><p>Eventually, the small rumble in his stomach starts to grow louder and more demanding, not usually empty this far into the morning and Tobio sighs, ruffling the red strands he’s buried in.</p><p>But then the exasperation quickly gives way to a tingle of excitement.</p><p>Because he doesn’t normally get to make breakfast - the whole meal is either fully prepared or mostly finished by the time he actually makes it into the kitchen - because Hinata loves to cook and takes it upon himself to make all of their meals.</p><p>But today Hinata is apparently choosing to be a slob, so now it’s Tobio’s time to shine.</p><p>With a yawn that cracks his jaw, Tobio slowly extracts his arms and legs from his partner and stretches them out, sliding across the sheets and feeling the pull in his tired muscles. Hinata snuffles sleepily beside him, but otherwise doesn’t stir, even when Tobio slowly sits up and slips from the bed.</p><p>Tobio pads around to his husband’s side and stoops low to press a kiss to his temple, and gets a soft snore in response.</p><p>Quietly, he slips from the bedroom and into the kitchen.</p><p>He may not be able to prepare of all the things Hinata could – who does wonderful and extravagant things with the variety of kitchen appliances littered on the counter tops, half of which Tobio cannot even name. And he may be sort-of banned from cooking fish in its entirety after that one incident where he managed to set the entire hob on fire, but Tobio is not <em>completely</em> incompetent.</p><p>Being a sought-after international standard player takes him (and Hinata) across the world, and while they may be both home right now, they are both frequently away and sometimes separate. And while Tobio will take a breakfast made for him if he can get it, for the ease, he can still make a very decent bowl of eggs over rice.</p><p>But, Tobio thinks as he fishes around in the cupboards for a loaf of bread, maybe this morning he can break out his secret weapon.</p><p>He hasn’t had a chance to prepare it at home yet, but during his recent months playing in France he had learned how to make something <em>spectacular:</em> French toast.</p><p>(Tobio loved toast. He also loved milk. Once he discovered there was a meal that combined both toast <em>and</em> milk he’d been absolutely thrilled.)</p><p>Normally, Tobio’s breakfasts consist of two bowls of eggy rice and a mountain of (normal) toast, but now it was time to up his game. He may concede that out of the two of them Hinata was easily the better cook, but he was still at his heart fiercely competitive and he knew Hinata hadn’t made French toast before.</p><p>(Largely because it was catastrophically bad for you, and Hinata would certainly have a heart attack at the calorie content. But if he was warm and soft and sleepy he could probably be persuaded to have some, as a treat.)</p><p>Tobio whips the milk and eggs in a bowl as the hob heats up. He couldn’t hear any noises from the bedroom yet, so presumably Hinata is still sleeping, but he’ll probably rouse once the smell of fried bread fills the flat. Dunking the bread slices in the mixture, Tobio places them neatly in his frying pan full of oil, brandishing his spatula at the ready. In his first few attempts at making French toast, he’d burnt or undercooked almost every slice, but now he had his timing down to perfection.</p><p>Within a few minutes, he had a small pile of perfectly browned, perfectly cooked French toast on a plate and two bowls of egg over rice.</p><p>Satisfied, he turns to the doorway of their kitchen-come-living-area, expecting to see or at least hear Hinata’s presence, but frowns when there’s nothing.</p><p>He wasn’t exactly a particularly quiet cook, and the smell of his freshly made breakfast was, in his humble opinion, absolutely scrumptious. So where was his husband?</p><p>Baffled, Tobio pads out into the hallway and back into their bedroom to find Hinata… still completely asleep. In fact, it didn’t look like he’d moved at all since Tobio had left the room, which was a rarity in itself. Normally, Hinata with a full mattress to sprawl across was a recipe for bedsheet disaster.</p><p>Tobio slips across to the room to his partner’s side and crouches down, running a large palm across his back. Hinata is on his side, facing away from him, and at the touch he shuffles slightly, a sleepy sigh puffing out across his pillow.</p><p>“Wake up, you slouch,” Tobio admonishes gently. “Breakfast’s ready.”</p><p>There’s a sleepy grumble in response, but otherwise Hinata doesn’t move.</p><p>Frowning harder, Tobio raises himself up slightly so he can lean over Hinata. His husband has turned his head to press himself further into the down of his pillow, so it’s hard to see, but Tobio can just about make out the tense, unhappy lines marring his face. “Shou?” He murmurs softly, “Do you want to me to let you sleep?”</p><p>It’s entirely possible that Hinata had pushed himself further than usual yesterday during practice and Tobio had somehow not noticed. Extremely unlikely, but possible. And if Hinata really was exhausted the best thing for him would be to let him rest, if he needed it.</p><p>“Mmmmm no, I’m getting up,” Hinata’s voice rumbles out through the duck down of his pillow, thick and gravelly. There’s a deep sigh, that shifts Tobio’s palm across his shoulder blade, and then Hinata’s rolling over onto his back with a soft groan, rubbing at his face with his hands.</p><p>Tobio runs his fingers through Hinata’s hair and tweaks the strands. “Sure?”</p><p>Hinata hums his ascent, letting his right hand drop back down to the bedding but continuing to rub his eyes with his left, his wedding ring glinting in the morning sunlight. Tobio’s mouth ticks up very slightly at the corner at the sight. </p><p>“Did you make breakfast?” Hinata mumbles, squinting at him. </p><p>“I did,” Tobio replies, and some of his excitement for showing off his new toast dims slightly as he takes in just how tired Hinata still looks. Pale with dark smudges under his eyes and the edges of his face drawn and tight. He wants to ask about it, but then his husband is groaning and sitting up and waving his hand at him in a shooing motion. </p><p>“Go on, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says, and shoves lightly at his shoulder. </p><p>Tobio frowns a little but acquiesces, sloping back off into the kitchen as Hinata yawns into his palm.</p><p>As Tobio sets the table, there’s the distant clunking and groaning of the old pipes in the walls as Hinata freshens up in the bathroom, but otherwise there’s very little noise at all. Which in itself was strange, because Hinata was a chronically noisy in the mornings. Always babbling happily away about something or humming – singing, if he actually knew the words – while Tobio grunted where prodded but otherwise basked in the oddly soothing cacophony.</p><p>He’s just finishing making the tea when a small noise in the doorway catches his attention and he glances up.</p><p>Hinata is standing there, still in his pyjamas, looking drawn and tired and unhappy.</p><p>Tobio clucks his tongue and abandons the kettle, crossing the room swiftly. “You’re not feeling well,” he states when he reaches his husband, irritation bubbling up swiftly inside him. Why had he not <em>noticed?</em> He slides one palm across Hinata’s forehead – warm, but not boiling – and then when Hinata bats at him irritably, threads the fingers of both hands through his husband’s fiery hair. </p><p>“Hmmm… headache,” Hinata hums in agreement, letting his eyes slide shut as Tobio drags his nails across his scalp. </p><p>“Migraine?” Tobio checks with a frown. </p><p>Hinata gets them on the very rare occasion (Tobio can count on one hand the amount of times he’s had one in his presence), and they tend to be fleeting and not triggered by anything in particular, which was something at least, he supposes.</p><p>But none of that made up for how Hinata was in for a long, draining day.</p><p>Hinata groans and lets his aching head drop forward until it butts against Tobio’s sternum, winding his arms around his waist and sighing. “Stupid head…” he whines into Tobio’s pyjama shirt.</p><p>Tobio runs his hands across Hinata’s shoulders soothingly and decides not to bring up how at least today was a day off, and if Hinata <em>did</em> spend all day in bed, he wouldn’t be missing anything vital. To Hinata, any day in bed was a waste, regardless whether it was by choice or not. “Want to go back to sleep?”</p><p>“You made breakfast,” Hinata mumbles, and lifts his head up just enough so he can peek over Tobio’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’ll keep,” Tobio says confidently.</p><p>(He has no idea.)</p><p>“Mmmm no, I’m fine,” Hinata decides, extracting himself slowly from Tobio’s arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll eat something.”</p><p>“Should I turn the lights off?” Tobio asks as Hinata totters his way to the table.</p><p>“… Maybe,” Hinata decides, as he glances up the lighting with a wince.</p><p>It’s early enough in the morning to have them on, to brighten up the flat, but Tobio pads over to the light switch to dutifully flick them off. Then he crosses the room to lower the blinds over the windows for good measure – leaving the room in soft, cosy darkness. Not quite what he’d imagined for today’s breakfast, but if helps Hinata’s head hurt less, he’ll take it.</p><p>When he joins his partner at the table, he finds Hinata poking at the small mountain of French toast, some of the tension gone from his pale face in favour of curiosity.</p><p>“French toast,” Tobio supplies, and cannot stop the wobbly smile that spreads over his face.</p><p>“When did you learn how to make this?” Hinata questions, voice soft.</p><p>“France,” Tobio says, sitting down across from him. “When you-“</p><p>“-Translated those ingredients for you,” Hinata finishes, realisation dawning. “I wondered what you were cooking. I should have known it was toast.”</p><p>Tobio would kick him in the ankle, but his husband’s not feeling well, so he refrains.</p><p>Hinata opts to leave the toast for now, pulling his bowl of eggy rice towards him. They exchange a quiet thanks for the meal, and then the only sounds in the flat are the soft clinks of chopsticks against their bowls.</p><p>Hinata only finishes about half of his bowl before he’s pushing it away, and then he’s reaching for a slice of toast, eyeing it warily.</p><p>“You can have treats, sometimes,” Tobio says impatiently on reflex, before he winces and tempers his tone. “But don’t eat it if you’re going to be sick.”</p><p>“Noted,” Hinata grumbles back, and starts nibbling on a slice.</p><p>Tobio watches him beadily for any signs of him suddenly going green before getting to his feet once Hinata manages to swallow with no immediate repercussions. It doesn’t take long for him to finish making the tea he had neglected earlier and return to the table, only to find Hinata had finished about two thirds of his toast and was eyeing the rest of it warily.</p><p>“Are you going to be sick?” Tobio demands, in his best whisper.</p><p>“<em>No,</em>” Hinata grunts back, “but I might if I finish.” He puts the rest of the toast down sadly, giving it a mournful look before turning big sad brown eyes up at Tobio. “It’s really good though… I’m sorry.”</p><p>Tobio tuts and leans down, pushing red strands out of the way so he can press a kiss to his husband’s slightly-warmer-than-normal forehead. “It’s fine, stupid,” he says softly. “Tea?”</p><p>Hinata hums and takes the offered mug, and, to his credit, manages to at least finish all of it before he blinks down into the empty ceramic, slow and exhausted.</p><p>“Come on. Bed,” Tobio declares, getting to his feet and bullying his partner back into the bedroom, who thankfully complies for a change.</p><p>(This was one of those rare times where Tobio sort of wished Hinata wasn’t too indignant to be lifted. Carrying his spouse back to bed sounded very romantic and very tempting, but even with a monstrous headache, Hinata was liable to come for his kneecaps if he so much as dared. It was still a miracle Tobio got away with it after a victorious volleyball game.)</p><p>Hinata crawls back under the sheets with a long, drawn-out groan as Tobio strides over to the curtains to ensure they’re blocking out as much sunlight as possible. Unfortunately, the fabric is quite light, as both of them prefer their living space to be bright and airy, and even with the lights off and the curtains drawn, their bedroom is still a little <em>too</em> bright for Tobio’s liking. He’ll have to hang something else off the rail later.</p><p>His husband is still whining into his pillow when Tobio rounds the bed again and ensures he’s sufficiently tucked in. It’s only when he's moving to stand up straight again that one of Hinata’s hands shoots out and grabs his, tugging petulantly.</p><p>“Stay,” Hinata demands, yanking on Tobio.</p><p>“I have to-“</p><p>“You have to do <em>nothing,</em> it’s our day off. Just stay here,” Hinata grouses miserably, continuing his relentless pulling until Tobio relents and moves to clamber over him, scooting across the sheets. He shuffles until he’s sitting up against the headboard, and dutifully lifts an arm as Hinata burrows his way against his side.</p><p>“Do you want any painkillers?” He asks softly as Hinata throws one arm around his upper thighs and stuffs his nose into the dip of his waist.</p><p>“Too late,” Hinata mumbles back, muffled by a mouthful of pyjama shirt.</p><p>Tobio winces and cups the back of his partner’s head, stroking his hair. If Hinata was lucky, he could take something just as he felt a bad headache coming on, but if he woke up with one already fully raging in his head, he said they didn’t do much. Tobio scowls to himself, feeling a bubble of guilt gnaw away at him as he remembers how he just thought his husband was being lazy this morning. He should’ve noticed <em>sooner</em>, and then Hinata could maybe be feeling better right now.</p><p>Frustrated, he settles back against their headboard and busies himself with running his fingers through soft orange waves until Hinata starts to snore against him, a plan forming in his mind.</p><p>Once he was satisfied that his husband was fully asleep, he slowly shuffles his way out of his grasp, replacing himself with a pillow so that Hinata still had something to latch onto.</p><p>Within thirty minutes, he’s sitting at the table with the laptop open, having cleared away the remnants of breakfast (aside from the toast, which is sitting in a little pile next to him, slowly diminishing as he steadily munches through it) and a fresh cup of tea. Resting his chin on one hand, he scrolls through the searched websites with intense focus, opening new tabs for anything he found useful.</p><p>Although he’s witnessed Hinata’s migraines before, all of those times were before they had gotten married. He’d nearly had a heart attack for the first one, back in their third year. Hinata had booted him from his house in the morning after waking up in the throes of one because he ‘was being too loud’ and Tobio had spent the rest of the day convinced his then-boyfriend had some sort of catastrophic brain injury. And all of this meant getting him better as soon as possible was even more important.</p><p>Tobio had hated the cloying feeling of uselessness for all the previous times he’d been unable to doing anything when his partner was ill (most important of all being… well, neither of them liked to remember the fever.) But now Hinata really was his <em>partner.</em> They were <em>married</em>. And good husbands made sure their husbands felt better as soon as possible.</p><p>(He thinks.)</p><p>Google keeps spitting out the same responses, mostly - encouraging sleep and reducing stimuli and taking pain relief if it helped… all of which was covered and certainly not speeding up the process.</p><p>But there’s a few articles offering advice for… <em>other</em> remedies and Tobio makes a small noise of intrigue as he leans closer, taking note of the instructions shining out to him from the laptop screen.</p><p>On the strike of twelve, Tobio kicks open the door to their bedroom (quietly) and staggers in, a tray laden with bowls in his hands. He just about manages to make it to the bed without anything spilling and plonks the tray down on the mattress, just far enough away that Hinata won’t accidentally kick it off the bed.</p><p>“Hinata. Hina- Shouyou,” Tobio whispers loudly, gently nudging at his husband’s shoulder. Hinata grunts into Tobio’s pillow body double that he’s still wrapped around. “Shou-“</p><p>“<em>What?</em>”</p><p>“I made soup.”</p><p>Hinata lets out a long, deep sigh into the pillow before lifting his head just slightly to squint at him over his shoulder with one bleary eye. He grunts his question, and Tobio waves a hand at the tray at the foot of the bed.</p><p>Hinata stares at the tray for a solid, silent minute before letting his head drop back down onto the pillow with a muffled whine. Tobio hovers over him anxiously. “Why soup?”</p><p>“It’s healthy,” Tobio says immediately, the anxiety dissipating slightly when he realises Hinata just looks grouchy. “You like healthy.”</p><p>Because he does – Tobio likes food, and Hinata sometimes (lovingly) likes to refer to him as a dustbin, but Hinata loves <em>nutrition.</em> He has several books on it, can name the nutritional values of his favourite meals off of the top of his head, and has to be wheedled extensively to eat something unhealthy if volleyball season is on.</p><p>With a grunt, Hinata releases the pillow he’s clutching to roll onto his back, rubbing at his temple and forehead with uncoordinated fingers. “’m not that hungry,” he mumbles.</p><p>“You don’t have to eat all of it,” Tobio says, “but you’ll feel better after a few mouthfuls.”</p><p>He hopes. There was certainly enough people on the internet claiming a hearty bowl of soup cured most ills.</p><p>Hinata sucks in a deep breath through his nose and releases it slowly. “Okay,” he groans, “what flavour is it?”</p><p>Tobio scoots around the bed until he’s at the foot of it where the tray is lying. “Err, I’ve got tomato…”</p><p>“Bit rich, maybe…”</p><p>“Oh. Well there’s chicken, lentil-”</p><p>“Tobio.”</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>Hinata lets his hands drop away from his face and raises himself up on his elbows slightly so he can squint down the bed at him. “How many flavours have you made?”</p><p>“Err… six.”</p><p>There’s a long pause.</p><p>“<em>Six?”</em></p><p>“Yeah, we’ve also got mushroom, cauliflower and vegetable.”</p><p>Hinata stares at him wordlessly before letting his head drop back onto the pillow. “You thought I’d eat <em>six bowls</em> of soup?” He asks the ceiling, voice rough and bewildered.</p><p>Tobio frowns, slightly offended. Of course he didn’t think Hinata would eat six bowls of soup, he wasn’t an idiot. “I wanted to be thorough,” he pouts, scowling down at his medley of soup. Admittedly the kitchen now looked like a bomb had hit it and he’s not entirely certain about the cauliflower one, but he’s fairly sure they’re all edible. The recipes hadn’t been too difficult with Hinata’s food processor to help.</p><p>“… C’mere?”</p><p>Tobio blinks at the request and shuffles around the side of the bed again.</p><p>Hinata snares his hand and squints up at him. Judging by the tightness around his eyes, it hurt too much to open them fully, and Tobio makes a mental note to hang more than just towels over the curtain rail to try and make the room even darker. “Did you replace yourself with a pillow to go and make ten bowls of soup?” Hinata asks, voice low.</p><p>“Six,” Tobio corrects, whispering. “And… maybe.”</p><p>“You’ve cooked more today than you have in a month,” Hinata marvels, and Tobio tightens his grip on his hand for the cheek. “And, I’m really sorry, but I think I’m just going to hurl if I eat anything. It should keep, though.”</p><p>“Fair enough,” Tobio sighs, and gives his soup one last mournful look. They may have to become late lunch rather than on-time lunch. He leans forward to press a kiss on Hinata’s forehead, who hums appreciatively. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”</p><p>“Yes please,” Hinata yawns, settling himself further down into the bedding, letting his eyes slide closed. “Come here?”</p><p>“I’ll be right back,” Tobio promises to Hinata’s answering hum, and gets back up to collect his tray of unwanted soup.</p><p>He feels a little guilty when he returns (after having safely stashed the collection of soup in the fridge) not with the intention of joining his husband in the bed, but with a different remedy. Lifting the pouch of lavender, which he’d heated in the microwave, he places it gently on his partner’s forehead – who was thankfully asleep again, because he didn’t think Hinata would allow it otherwise. It was quite… pungent.</p><p>Satisfied, he tosses a few hoodies across the curtain rail to join the towels and the useless curtains for good measure, throwing the room into further darkness before exiting and closing the door behind him with a soft click.</p><p>The next few hours are spent interchangeably: cleaning the kitchen, and then ruining the kitchen all over again with his back-up plan if Hinata woke up and the lavender somehow hadn’t worked.</p><p>“’Yama?”</p><p>Tobio shuts off the food processor and cranes an ear. “Yeah?”</p><p>Hinata pops his head through the doorway. He still looks haggard, even though it’s well into the afternoon now, still pale and quiet. He isn’t looking at Tobio, instead looking down at the lavender pouch in his hand. “What’s this?”</p><p>“Lavender,” Tobio says, padding over to him so he can peer at his face hopefully. He’s disappointed to see the tightness is still there. “Did it help?”</p><p>“I… no,” Hinata says, sounding a little baffled. “Still feels as though someone took a sledgehammer to my head.” He looks up and smiles brightly, briefly, before he winces mightily and it drops.</p><p>Tobio runs his fingers across the lavender pouch, testing the temperature. “It’s because it’s gone cold,” he decides, and plucks it out of his husband’s slack grip.</p><p>“Of course,” Hinata sighs, letting his eyes slide shut again. Tobio notes that they’re standing in the kitchen, which is bright and loud, and tuts with annoyance at his stupid husband exposing himself to the stimuli he was supposed to be avoiding.</p><p>With a grunt, he flings the tea towel he had draped over his arm over Hinata’s head to shield his eyes, which earns him a startled squawk.</p><p>“Stop being so <em>loud</em>, I thought your head hurt,” Tobio hisses, and pushes and prods his partner until Hinata turns around.</p><p>“It <em>does</em>,” Hinata stage whispers, and rips the tea towel off to fling back into Tobio’s face for good measure. He looks incredibly grumpy.</p><p>“Then what are you doing out of bed?” Tobio mutters savagely, leaving the towel on the floor where it lands and basically shooing Hinata back along corridor.</p><p>“I… toilet,” Hinata says vaguely, waving a hand at the door to it as they pass, “and then you weren’t there, because you left me<em> again</em>, leaving a bag of rosemary on my head…”</p><p>“Lavender.”</p><p>“Whatever,” Hinata groans as they re-enter the now darkened cave that is their bedroom. He flops onto the bed and whines miserably and the irritation that had built up within Tobio evaporates immediately.</p><p>He helps lift the sheets and arrange the pillows, until his partner is once again safely swaddled in bed linen, sad brown eyes squinting up at him from his little nest. “Are you hungry now?”</p><p>“Maybe?” Hinata mumbles, wiggling around in his cocoon. “Why, what flavour of soup is on the menu?”</p><p>“I have something better.”</p><p>“Oh god,” Hinata groans, which Tobio opts to ignore, running his fingers quickly through his husbands hair before darting away back into the kitchen.</p><p>After some extensive googling (including a brief panic where Tobio had half convinced himself Hinata really did have a brain tumour and not just a migraine), he’d fallen into a pit of homeopathic remedies. Some outlandish, some perfectly sensible, and he had raided their cupboards for all of the herbs and spices he could find.</p><p>Including Hinata’s prize seasoning cupboard.</p><p>Which had many herbs and spices from around the world. Some of which were quite hard to find, and rather expensive.</p><p>Which, normally, Tobio didn’t rummage through without Hinata’s express permission.</p><p>But as this was all <em>for</em> Hinata… he figures it’s okay.</p><p>He’d dumped all the plants he could find in the flat that the internet boasted the healing properties of, along with a generous dollop of fat-free yoghurt, and one banana, into the food processor and blitzed the lot. Then Hinata had walked in with his now-cold bag of lavender.</p><p>Tossing the heating bag back into the microwave on his way past, Tobio collects the jug from the food processor and pours his mixture into a glass. It doesn’t smell particularly appetising, but then again, most super healthy things didn’t he supposes. At least it’s an attractive shade of green.</p><p>Collecting the glass, the newly heated lavender bag, and stuffing some other things into his pocket, Tobio returns back to the bedroom to find Hinata halfway between nodding off again and squinting blearily.</p><p>Big brown eyes widen as soon as they catch sight of the glass in Tobio’s hand.</p><p>“Now what have you made?” Hinata asks, with a slight hint of despair, but he does sit up a little more at least.</p><p>“It’s a smoothie,” Tobio says slowly, because <em>obviously.</em></p><p>“What’s in it?” Hinata squints at it suspiciously.</p><p>“Yoghurt, banana…” Tobio lists, feeling positive as Hinata brightens, “rosemary, peppermint… some… other stuff,” he clears his throat at the last part, especially when Hinata starts to look a little horrified.</p><p>“… Interesting,” Hinata allows, but he does take the glass from Tobio all the same. He looks at it gingerly, before he raises his gaze back up at Tobio warily. “Don’t get mad if I spit it out,” he warns, before he takes a tentative sip.</p><p>And then immediately gags.</p><p>“<em>Hey!”</em> Tobio protests, forgetting to tempter his volume, not that it seems to matter, with how much Hinata is grimacing at the taste anyway.</p><p>“Oh my god…” Hinata chokes, face twisted up. “Is there ginger in this?”</p><p>“Yes, that’s good for headaches apparently. So I put a lot in.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, I can taste it…” Hinata coughs, looking worryingly close to being sick.</p><p>“Is it that bad?” Tobio asks, frowning mightily. Maybe he should’ve added more yoghurt… and fruit. Fruit was normally good for smoothies.</p><p>“Tobio, I love you for the effort, but this the most <em>disgusting</em> thing I have ever tasted,” Hinata says frankly, depositing the glass on the nightstand next to him with a finalising thunk. “<em>Don’t</em> try and improve it,” he adds warningly when Tobio eyes it thoughtfully.</p><p>“It’s supposed to help,” Tobio grumbles.</p><p>“Is it?” Hinata says crankily, settling back down onto his pillow mountain looking thoroughly fed up, and Tobio’s stomach twists horribly.</p><p>He’s supposed to be making his husband feel better, and yet all he seems to be doing is causing Hinata to become more and more irritated. Which is the exact opposite thing he wants to be achieving, especially with Hinata still looking tired and miserable and in pain. With a sigh, he rummages around in his pockets for the re-heated lavender pack in one hand and a mix of herbs and pills in the other.</p><p>“What about pain killers?” He offers again.</p><p>“<em>No,</em>” Hinata bites out.</p><p>“Then try chewing on a peppermint leaf.”</p><p>There’s a beat of silence before Hinata is sitting up again in one swift motion. His hair is a mess, a wild array of orange, knotted and sweaty. He’s pale with dark shadows under his eyes and a flush to his cheeks. But his eyes still spark, furious and golden as he levels Tobio with the grouchiest stare he’s ever received.</p><p>“Kageyama.”</p><p>“… Yes?”</p><p>“Get on the bed,” Hinata orders, unexpectedly.</p><p>Tobio blinks, taken aback by this. But he doesn’t want to infuriate Hinata anymore so, baffled, he deposits the peppermint leaves and paracetamol on the nightstand next to the herbal smoothie and slides his way across the mattress until he’s sitting back up against the headboard.</p><p>His husband says nothing more, instead grumpily pushing and pulling and rearranging him until Tobio is lying flat on his back with a mini mountain of pillows surrounding his head and neck. Then Hinata clambers on top of him and flops down, draping his entire body across Tobio’s, head pillowed on his chest. Grumbling, he mashes his cheek against Tobio’s pyjama shirt and winds his arms tightly around his torso, twining their legs together.</p><p>Tobio blinks down at his new human duvet, trying not to wheeze – Hinata is short, but he’s certainly not light. “Shouyou?”</p><p>“Stay <em>here</em>,” Hinata demands. “I don’t need soup, or herbal remedies, or peppermint, or paracetamol, or whatever else you’ve found in our cupboards. I just need to sleep.”</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>“And don’t <em>leave</em>,” Hinata continues, a slight petulance to his voice. “You don’t have to do all of that other stuff, I just want to sleep holding my stupid husband. You’re all I need.”</p><p>“… Oh,” Tobio says, very softly, and a wobbly, silly smile spreads its way across his face. He gathers his husband up in his arms so he’s resting a little comfier against him, tucking his head under his chin and reburying his nose into soft fire. He can get cosy like this, with his human duvet, this he can do. “This is enough?”</p><p>“Of course it is you big idiot,” Hinata sighs, tilting his head just so, so that he can press a kiss to the underside of Tobio’s jaw. He puffs out a tiny sigh and settles against him, squeezing his torso a little tighter. “Love you.”</p><p>“I love you too,” Tobio mumbles into red curls, replacing the lavender bag and stroking his husband’s aching head until they both drop off to sleep.</p><p>By morning, Hinata’s migraine has finally fully dissipated, and Tobio was immensely cheered to wake up to find his husband back in the kitchen after rising with the sun as normal, already halfway through the breakfast preparations.</p><p>“Morning,” he calls, padding over to him.</p><p>Hinata doesn’t turn to face him, instead staring into an open cupboard, oddly silent.</p><p>Tobio freezes. That was the spices cupboard.</p><p>“Tobio,” Hinata says lowly, dangerously, “did you use <em>all</em> of my spices?”</p><p>“Not… <em>all</em> of them.”<br/>
<br/>
The door clunks closed and Hinata tips his head forward until his forehead thunks against the wood. “Even the saffron?”</p><p>Tobio winces but he collects himself. “I ordered replacements,” he offers, because he did. He wasn’t selfish enough to use all the herbs in cabinet without ensuring to replace them, even if he did nearly faint on the spot at the price of saffron. </p><p>“I can’t believe you put them all in that horror smoothie…” Hinata groans, glaring at the disgusting drink in question, still in its glass on the kitchen counter.</p><p>“It was supposed to <em>help</em>. It’s a herbal remedy,” Tobio says petulantly, crossing the distance so he can sulk properly next to Hinata.</p><p>Then he perks up at what he sees in the frying pan.</p><p>“French toast,” Hinata says with a smile. He lifts out a slice with the spatula and lets it cool before offering it to Tobio, who takes it with a small noise of delight. Winding his arms around Tobio’s waist as he munches, he beams happily. “Good?”</p><p>Tobio moans his enjoyment – perfectly sweet and salty, as to be expected. “Thank-you,” he murmurs, winding an arm around his husband’s waist to squeeze him close. “Are you feeling better?”<br/>
<br/>
“All gone,” Hinata chirps cheerfully, and rocks up on his toes to land a kiss, his lips just as salty as Tobio’s – he’s been at the butter. “Thank-you for taking care of me.”</p><p>Tobio hums against him and shifts so he can hold him better, reaching for another slice of toast and making a mental note to upgrade his herb order to next-day delivery. </p><p>Just in case they needed more lavender. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>inspired by convos with nareh</p><p>if you would like to scream with me about haikyuu, I am over on twitter @Emlee_J</p></blockquote></div></div>
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